The Other Side of the Moon
by Regina the Queen of Random
Summary: She was the light to his darkness, the beauty to his beast. He showed her magic, she showed him love. His name was Remus. Her name was Phoebe.


**Regina, the Queen of Random:** Hello, hello, my name, as you may have guessed, is Regina. I'd firstly like to say, I do not own Remus Lupin, or any of the characters from the Harry Potter series, in any way, shape or form.

Now that the disclaimer is over and done with, let me do the introduction. This is a story that I have been planning for some time now, and it's my interpretation of the _other_ secret that haunts Remus Lupin. I'm sorry that it does involve an original character, but these things always involve a girl.

Anyway, this is sort of a tester for where the rest of this story goes – if I write any more. You see, if people don't review, I don't write. Sound familiar?

And just another thing, if you don't like this story, I will apologise by giving you the link to my Remus Lupin music video (link is in the bio) which is much better than this story.

And since I am apologising, I am going to apologise to Remus in advanced – you'll see why at the end of the chapter.

* * *

**The Other Side of The Moon**

_Chapter One: Phoebe Gardner_

Time stopped for Remus Lupin the moment he pass through the barrier from Platform 9 ¾, and into the Muggle world.

One moment, he was laughing at something Sirius Black had said, and the next... nothing.

Nothing... except her.

He had seen her once before, the day he had boarded the train to travel to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for his seventh and final year. He had only seen her once, but he had never forgotten, never stopped thinking about her.

He had given up all hope of even seeing her again... and here she was, only a few metres away.

"Watch it, Moony," said Sirius, using his nickname. Time started up again, and Remus realised that he had forgotten to breathe.

"Sorry, Padfoot," he apologised.

"What's gotten into you? Are you even listening to me?"

"What?" Remus had been looking at the girl. She was laughing at something her friend had said.

Another of his friends, James Potter, saw what he was looking at. A smile spread slowly across his face. "Moony's mooning." He laughed at his joke, and Sirius laughed with him.

Remus took his gaze off of her to shoot him a look. "Very funny, Prongs. Why don't you say goodbye to Lily?"

"Bloody..." James never finished the sentence, taking off in the direction a red-headed girl.

"Well, good luck, Moony," Sirius told him, clapping him on the back. "You'll need it. I'll owl you." He pushed his trolley after James.

"Yeah, see you, Moony," added a slightly pudgy boy. He waved to a woman, and started to head in her direction.

"See you, Wormtail!" Remus called after him.

And just like that, Remus was alone. Nothing to stand between him and the girl...

... who was nowhere to be seen.

Completely out of character, Remus swore under his breath, and began to make his way to the exit.

* * *

Remus was still berating himself several days later.

"You are an idiot. A complete idiot," he told himself as he walked through a Muggle park in an attempt to clear his head. "You never get a second chance... but you did, and you messed it up. You. Are. An. Idiot."

"Who's an idiot?" asked a voice.

Remus spun around. "Who said that?"

"I did," replied the voice.

Remus looked around wildly. "Where are you?"

Laughter. "Up here. In the tree."

Remus had been so unaware of his surroundings that he had not noticed that he was standing right next to a large tree, one that would be good for climbing.

He looked up... and every thought in his head vanished like mist.

"Hi!" A pause. "I know you! You're the boy from the train station!" Smiling, the girl leaned back against the tree trunk. "I didn't think I'd see you again."

Remus found his voice. "Neither did I."

"This is no way to talk. Catch!" She dropped something, and Remus caught it. It was a book.

Effortlessly, the girl climbed down the tree. She smiled at Remus, who stared blankly at her. The only thing that he could think of was that her eyes were just like honey, warm and liquid and sweet.

"... book back?" It seemed she was saying something, and Remus had been too lost to pay any attention.

"Pardon?"

"I said, can I have my book back?"

Remus looked down, and saw that, yes, he still had her book. Trying to fight the blush he knew was spreading up his neck, he almost thrust the book at her.

"Thanks," she said. "I'm Phoebe, by the way. Phoebe Gardner."

"Remus Lupin," he managed to choke out. It was humiliating, the way he was behaving. Luckily for him, his friends were not there, otherwise he would never hear the end of it!

"Nice to meet you, Remus Lupin." Phoebe held out her free hand.

Remus hesitated, then took it, trying to ignore the strange tingly feeling he got when he looked at her, only intensified by the skin-to-skin contact.

He had it bad, and he knew it.

"... like chocolate?" He'd done it again.

"Pardon?"

"I said, do you like chocolate?" Phoebe asked again. "'Cause there's a cake sitting in the fridge at home that's just waiting to be eaten. I can't eat it all myself, and my family have gone away from the weekend." She tilted her head slightly, thinking. "At least, it _should_ be there, unless my brothers have already eaten it. They're bottomless pits." She smiled at him, and Remus had to struggle to keep his knees from buckling. "What am I saying? Of course you like chocolate."

"How do you know?"

She winked at him, and it seemed his knees were winning. "I can tell. Besides, who doesn't like chocolate?"

* * *

The Gardner family home was nothing out of the ordinary; no different from the houses that it stood shoulder to shoulder with. It was large and airy, with plenty of space for a family with several children.

"That's Adrian," Phoebe told him as he looked over the photographs standing proudly on the mantelpiece. "He's twenty next month. Says he's going to be a doctor. At least, that's what he's studying _now._ Last year he was going to become a writer. Dad put his foot down; he's a writer himself, and knows that Adrian isn't cut out for it." Phoebe's voice became quieter as she went into the kitchen, although he could still hear her quite clearly. "Dad's an editor at the local newspaper. He did work for one of the larger ones, but he says he needs the peace and quite now. Ah! We're in luck!"

"What?"

Phoebe returned somehow managing to carry a large plate, a knife, two smaller plates, and a pair of forks. "Thanks," she said with a smile as he relieved her of the large plate, which carried half of an enormous chocolate cake. "They didn't eat it. Adrian and Damian. He's the one standing on my left," she added, tilting her head in the direction of the family portrait that he had been looking at. "Spitting image of Dad, too. He's twenty-two, and, unlike Adrian, knows exactly what he's doing. Law," she clarified. "I'm the baby of the family."

"And this is your mother and... grandfather?" Remus asked, looking at the two other people in the portrait. It was highly likely that he was right: the woman, although a few inches taller than the Phoebe in the photograph (who looked to be about sixteen) shared the same eyes, and hair of the same colour, although the woman wore her hair to her shoulders, while Phoebe's was down to her waist.

"Yes, that's them. Mum and Grandad Squid."

Remus could not help but notice the way Phoebe's voice grew quiet. He waited for her to explain; if she didn't want to, she didn't have to.

"Mum died the winter before last. Car accident, the week after Christmas. Grandad died just over a month later. He sort of – well, he was bad after Nana died, and Mum... well, that was the final nail in the coffin, I suppose you could say." She buried the knife deep into the centre of the cake. "How much do you want?" she asked, cutting off his apologies before he could make them.

"Not too much. Grandad _Squid_?"

"Oh." She laughed quietly, shedding the dark cloud that had appeared moments before. "Grandad always used to tell us stories about him growing up, and how no one liked him because he was a squid. We used to wonder how Nana put up with him – then we found out about how she used to threaten him with a broom, and that would shut him up. But the nickname stuck – Grandad Squid. That's what he's always been to me. He used to tell me all sorts of stories. Do you believe in magic?" she asked abruptly.

"What?"

"Do you believe in magic?" she repeated. "That's what Grandad always used to ask me whenever I saw him. That's what all his stories were about. So?" she asked, a twinkle in her eyes. "Do you believe in magic?"

What else could he say?

"I believe in magic."

* * *

"Grandad Squid was quite the character, wasn't he?"

"Oh, he caused so much trouble, you wouldn't believe it. But he was devoted to Nana and Mum. When the war was on, he was so worried about the two of them, he had the basement converted into a bomb shelter. It's actually this house that has it. It's much older than looks."

"Bomb shelter?" Remus asked.

Phoebe nodded. The chocolate-smeared plates had been long forgotten, and he did not care that it would be dark soon. "Solid concrete, a foot thick. Well, the shelter's a separate room. We just cleared it out, so we can use it for proper storage. All the sports gear's outside the door to the shelter. Solid steel, also a foot thick, with the largest set of locks I've ever seen."

"Locks?"

"More than one. He was extremely paranoid – kept going on about how _they_ were keeping an eye on him, even though he was just a squid. Got worse as he got older, too. Told me to stay away from them – that they would like me for the way I looked, but hate me for what I was. Told me that every time I saw him for seven years, and I still don't understand. I wasn't that pretty, and I'm certainly not pretty now. Well, I'm not ugly, but there's a difference."

"I think you're beautiful." The words were out of his mouth before he knew it.

She smiled slightly, and placed her hand on top of his. "You're sweet, Remus, but a liar. Or just very confused." She glanced up at the photo of her mother, whose name, Remus had learned, was Diana. "Mum was beautiful, though. Dad said that she was an angel, and that's why we couldn't keep her. Grandad said otherwise, that she was something else, but I don't know what exactly he was talking about. Another part of his weirdness, I suppose." Her gaze slid across the room slightly, to the window. "Wow, it's late. The moon's rising."

His stomach lurched, and he withdrew his hand instantly. "What?"

"The moon's rising. It's full, too."

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, NO!"

"What is it?"

He pushed himself away from the table with one violent motion. He had to stop this from happening, before –

"Argh!"

"What? What is it?" Phoebe's voice was panicky. "Are you okay?"

"The basement," he managed to get out, struggling harder than ever before to control what was happening. Although he knew it was futile. "Lock me in the bomb shelter."

"But... why?"

"Just do it!"

She grabbed his hand, and pulled him down a corridor. She flung open the door, and dragged him down some stairs. A single window allowed the moonlight to illuminate the room.

"Remus!" She recoiled as the outward changes began: the eyes, and the snout, the teeth...

"Phoebe..." the noise was a garbled, animalistic sound, coming deep from within his throat.

That was the last word he was to say.

"Remus!" With one desperate action, partially aided by the little control Remus had left, she pushed him through the door to the shelter.

"Oh, God! The door!"

She struggled with the door, trying to block out the terrible noises that were coming from what was no longer Remus.

"Got it!"

But as she swung the door closed, the fully transformed werewolf launched itself headlong at the prey that just wouldn't run. She threw her full weight against the door, but the wolf was still able to push it open.

"Remus!"

The wolf did not see the cricket bat that came crashing down on its head.

With a whimper, it retreated inside the shelter just enough for Phoebe to close it properly, and shut the first and largest of the locks.

By the time she had managed to shut the last of the many locks, Phoebe was used to the noises coming from inside.

Exhausted, she sank down against the door, a single tear trickling down her cheek.


End file.
